Life Without You
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: The night before Christmas Eve, Jane learns that he needs to be careful what he wishes for, because it just might come true. A spin on a Christmas Carol, and It's a Wonderful Life.
1. Chapter 1

**Life Without You**

**A Jane & Lisbon Christmas Story**

**By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Summary:**

**The night before Christmas Eve, Jane learns that he needs to be careful what he wishes for, because it just might come true.**

**Disclaimer:**

**Charles Dickens and Frank Capa own the idea. Bruno Heller owns the Mentalist. So, I own nothing. **

**.**

"It was nothing?" Lisbon replied with a huff. "You wouldn't be saying that if you had to fill out all the paperwork that I do."

Jane sighed and rolled his eyes. "Here we go again with the paperwork. I _always_ hear about the paperwork you have to fill out because of me."

"_You _certainly wouldn't like it if it were reversed."

"Look, if it's that big a deal, I'll apologize to the mall Santa," Jane said.

"An apology _won't_ take the paperwork away," Lisbon replied coolly.

"You know, you've been treating me differently ever since you slept with Walter Mashburn."

Lisbon's cheeks burned bright red. "We're not talking about that!"

"I just thought that I'd bring it up since we were arguing," Jane replied bitterly.

Lisbon bristled, her hand reached for a pen. "Just shut up!"

"Why?" Jane asked. "You never shut up. You're always harping on me about something."

She was livid as she got to her feet and chucked the pen at his face. "I _hate_ you Patrick Jane! I _really_ hate you! Do you know what you've put me through these past few years."

"Does it have to do with paperwork?" Jane asked sarcastically. "You can fill it out during Christmas vacation. You don't have anything better to do."

Suddenly, Lisbon cracked. "It's NOT JUST THE PAPERWORK JANE! I'VE ALMOST LOST MY JOB SEVERAL TIMES BECAUSE OF YOU! I'VE BEEN SUSPENDED, SHOT AT, THREATENED, KIDNAPPED—"

"So, I've made your life a living hell," Jane said shrugging.

"I'm not finished yet," Lisbon replied icily.

"By all means then, continue."

"You know, last year, I thought that we were getting closer. . . "She stopped realizing what she was going to say. "Yeah, you've made my life a living hell."

"Well babe, it hasn't been all peaches and cream knowing you!" Jane said. "And I really wish I had never met you. Yes, I said it. . . sometimes. . . I mean, most of the time, ALL of the time. I wish we had never met."

All of the anger and fight suddenly left Lisbon, like air leaving a leaky balloon. "You don't really mean that. . . do you?"

"Yes, _yes_ I mean it!" Jane answered. "I wish that we had _never_ met!"

"Fine!" Lisbon snapped, going to her office door and opening it. "You can go now. Goodbye _Mr._ Jane!"

Jane left without replying, without even looking at her.

With all of her heart, Lisbon wanted to cry. But she didn't want to waste her tears on Jane. She had wasted enough tears on him already.

She went back to her desk and picked up a framed newspaper clipping of her and Jane, their arms were wrapped around each other and they were looking at each other like they knew the same secret. The headline read, _Dynamic Agent and Consultant Duo Nabs Serial Killer_.

It had happened about a month after she slept with Mashburn. Lisbon sighed and put the picture down. She picked up another frame, this one was of her and Jane at the CBI picnic three months earlier. He was dressed in his usual three piece suit, but she was wearing an Emerald tan top and canvas shorts. They had just won a race, and Van Pelt had captured them in a victory hug.

She had a desk full of pictures now, thanks to Jane. And she couldn't believe it, but it was over. She held the photo close to her heart, dropped her head to the table, and succumbed to the tears.

**.**

"I don't need her," Jane told himself as he paced around his living room. "All that nagging about paperwork and ethics. . . nobody needs that. I'll be better off without her in my life. I'll put my notice in after the holidays and then I'll pretend that we never met."

He woke up a few hours later, sprawled out on his couch, his back and neck aching. He groaned and tried to figure out how long he had been asleep when he was aware of another presence in the living room. He grabbed something off his coffee table and sat up, ready to throw it ant the intruder, when his wife appeared in front of him.

"Hello Patrick," she said, smiling slightly.

"Angela. . . am I—"

"No, you're not going crazy," Angela answered. "You're not dead either."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"They sent me to deal with you Patrick."

"_They_?" Jane repeated. "And who, may I ask, are _They_?"

"Oh. . . a bunch of people," Angela answered off-handedly. "Really, there are too many to name. Now listen to me Patrick; before the stroke of midnight, you will be visited by three spirits. They all have something important to tell you, so listen carefully."

"What do you mean?"

"You wished that you had never met Agent Lisbon," Angela answered. "Well, these spirits are coming to show you what life would be like if you really had never met Teresa, or went to work for the CBI."

The clock chimed nine times and Angela was gone as suddenly as she had appeared.

**.**

"Dad!" A voice whispered in his ear. "Daddy! Patrick Jane!"

He sat up quickly, the clock in the living room was chiming the hour. Telling that it was almost ten. He searched around blindly for his lamp. Finding nothing, he called out, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Charlotte Anne Jane!" A bright light filled the room. "Hello Daddy!"

"What are you doing here? And where's my bed?"

"You don't have one," Charlotte Anne answered.

Jane stood up. "What do you mean, I don't have one? Of course I do. . . I bought one after. . . _what_ is that _thing _ doing on the wall?"

"That?" Charlotte Anne asked, pointing to Red John's signature mark.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure that Lisbon and I painted it over."

"Yeah, well. . . funny story," Charlotte Anne answered, laughing slightly. "Come with me."

**.**

"You know how you caught Red John a few months ago?" Charlotte Anne asked as they walked down a deserted street. "Well. . . you didn't actually catch him."

"What?" Jane asked. "Of course we did. . . he took Lisbon, and she called me. . . and I called the police."

"You never actually met Lisbon, or got a job at the CBI," Charlotte Anne answered. "So, naturally. . . Lisbon never got kidnapped, and you never caught Red John. So, he's still out there. . . hurting people. And besides the Red John case not getting solved there were lots of other ones that didn't get solved."

"They need me," Jane said. "Lesson learned, take me home."

**TBC. . .**


	2. Chapter 2

**Life Without You**

**A Jane & Lisbon Christmas Story**

**By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Summary:**

**The night before Christmas Eve, Jane learns that he needs to be careful what he wishes for, because it just might come true.**

**Disclaimer:**

**Charles Dickens and Frank Capa own the idea. Bruno Heller owns the Mentalist. So, I own nothing. **

**.**

**Chapter 2**

"You think you learned your lesson?"

"Bosco! What are you doing here?" Jane asked.

"If you think you learned your lesson, you are one _selfish_ man," Bosco said. "It would make this all about you."

Jane looked around. "What are we doing here?"

"You have another lesson to learn," Bosco answered.

"Oh! I get it; you want me to apologize to Lisbon."

"You're not here to apologize to Lisbon," Bosco said.

Jane opened the door. "Then what are we doing here?"

"Excuse me sir!" The security guard stopped him. "Do you have a visitor's pass?"

Jane searched for his ID badge, when he came up empty he looked beseechingly at the man. "Oh come on Mark, it's me! Patrick Jane—"

"Patrick _Who_?"

"_Jane_," he answered. "I work with Teresa Lisbon."

"That's impossible," Mark said.

"_Wha_t! I was just here yesterday," Jane said lamely. "I was just here yesterday. . ."

"Wait a minute, I'll be right back," Mark said.

"What _is_ going on here?" Jane asked Bosco.

"You never came to work for the CBI," Bosco answered. "_Remember_ Patrick?"

An Asian man was approaching them.

"Cho!" Jane said in relief.

"I'm Kimball Cho," Cho said, holding his hand out for Jane to shake it. "I understand that you're looking for Agent Teresa Lisbon. I need to know what your relationship with her was."

"You don't know me?" Jane asked, fighting back his shock.

"No, I'm sorry but Agent Lisbon never mentioned you," Cho answered. "How did you know her again?"

"We were. . . dating," Jane finally replied. "Can you tell me what happened? Was she transferred to another unit? Did she join CSI, NCIS. . . the FBI-?"

"You mean, you didn't hear?" Cho asked.

"Hear _what_?" Jane demanded.

"Agent Lisbon is dead," Cho replied somberly. "She was shot in the line of duty by a man named Hardy."

"But that can't be true! I saved her. . . I shot him. . ."

"I'm sorry, but she's gone. She took a shot to the heart and died instantly. There wasn't anything that anybody could do for her. I'm sorry Mr. Jane."

**.**

"I don't understand Bosco. . ." Jane said, sitting down on a bench outside of the office. "I was there. . . I shot him."

"You wished that you had never met her," Bosco answered, looking at him sympathetically. "Because you never met her, you weren't there to save her life. She went to find Maya and Red John by herself."

"NO!" Jane shouted. "Because we never met, she didn't figure out it was Hardy!"

"Jane, she's dead. There isn't anything you can do about it."

His throat clenched and there was a burning sensation in his eyes. Two tears slid down his cheek and wiped at them furiously. "Take me home Sam. I don't want to see anymore."

Bosco put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Jane. But I can't take you home."

"Then take me to her. . ." Jane said.

"But Jane. . . "

"_Take me to her_!"

Bosco looked heavenward, and then a couple of minutes later they arrived at the cemetery. "She's over there."

Jane took a few steps towards her grave and knelt down in front of it. He gently brushed the dirt off her headstone and traced the letters of her name out. In a quiet voice he said, "I'm sorry Lisbon. SO, so sorry that I wasn't there to save you. I should have been, please forgive me."

Even Bosco had to wipe a tear away at this display. But he couldn't let it go on forever, so he put a hand on Jane's shoulder. "Cone on. . . before we run out of time."

Jane stood and while he looked at Lisbon's grave, he allowed Bosco to take him to the next place where he would learn why and how Lisbon played an important part in his life.

**.**

"This is the place they sent me after I tried to kill myself," Jane said, looking around the mental ward. "But I don't understand. Why are we here?"

Bosco released a breath. "Follow me."

He led Jane to an elevator and pushed a button that took them to the top floor. When they exited, Jane saw Sophie Miller walking towards them with a grim expression on her face.

"He's not doing any better today?" A nurse asked as she came out of one of the other rooms.

"No," Sophie answered. "All he talks about is death, and dying. . . and how he wishes that he had succeeded in his first suicide attempt."

The nurse and Sophie walked on, their conversation fading away.

"Well. . . come on," Bosco said, leading Jane to a door.

"I don't want to look," Jane replied.

"I'm sorry, but you have to."

Jane sighed and peered through the small window that looked into a hospital room. He recognized the stark white walls, the lone bed, and the windows that filtered in dusty light. And there was something else. . . a familiar looking man in white scrubs. He had his same build, and hairstyle, but it was dirty and graying. And this man was considerably thinner, with a slump to his shoulders. His blue eyes looked like he was looking, but not seeing. Everything about this man screamed death and despair.

"I. . . I don't understand."

"That's you Patrick," Bosco replied. "Well, that would have been you, if you hadn't met Lisbon."

"What?"

"The man in that room has tried to kill himself seven times," Bosco explained. "Because he didn't have anything to live for, or anybody to care for him, or need him. But you met Lisbon, and she saved you, she gave you something to live for. If you hadn't met her—"

"I'd really be in that room. . . right now," Jane finished for him. "But I went too far this time. . . she'll never forgive me."

"In all fairness, you don't really _deserve_ it," Bosco replied.

"No," Jane agreed. "I guess not."

"But she loves you. . . you hold her heart," Bosco told him.

And suddenly, he was gone too. Leaving Jane alone to contemplate just how big a blessing Lisbon actually was to his

life

**TBC. . .**.

**.**

**This chapter was written to "Colors" by Amos Lee and "Winter Song" by Ingrid Michaelson and Sarah Baraliss. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Life Without You**

**A Jane & Lisbon Story  
By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Summary:**

**One Christmas Eve, Jane finds out what life without Lisbon would really be like. Inspired by "It's a Wonderful Life", and "a Christmas Carol".**

**Disclaimer:**

**This idea belongs to the amazing Frank Capa and Charles Dickens. **

**Author's Note:**

I am rewriting my original draft of Chapter 3, because I saw "a Christmas Carol" on Friday night, and I just knew that last scepter had to be Red John, because the Ghost of Christ Future is one freaky dude. And Jane's father just wouldn't have cut it.

Chapter 3

"Patrick Jane!" A low, eerie voice said.

"No more," Jane said in reply, slumping against the wall and sinking down to the floor. "I really can't take anymore."

The voice took shape of a man as he stepped out of the shadows and picked Jane up forcibly. "You'll come with me if you know what's good for you."

Jane turned to get a look at the ghost, and realized that he was staring into the very dead face of Red John. He recoiled, putting as much distance between him and the man as possible. "I'm not going with _you_!"

Red John laughed coldly. "Oh yes, you are."

"But why _you_?"

"Because Patrick, you're not quite unlike me as you like to think."

"I'm not like you!" Jane protested. "I'm not at all like you."

Red John paused for a second, making the moment almost comical. But then his face curled into a cruel smile. "You are too like me. You hate everybody and everything. You despise human life—"

"I don't! I spared your's, didn't I?"

He didn't answer him. "Come. We're running out of time."

A couple of minutes later, they were back in the cemetery.

"I already saw Lisbon's grave," Jane said. "I don't want to see it again. . . I can't see it again. It's my fault that she died—"

"True, but we're not here to see Agent Lisbon's grave," Red John replied, he pointed into the direction where a small group of people in black had gathered. "That's what we're here to see. Come with me Patrick."

As they got closer, Jane recognized a couple of his old carnival friends, his father, and Shophie Miller. He turned to Red John. "I don't understand."

"You, my friend, are dead." Red John nodded at the tombstone. "Drug overdose, apparently you'd been saving them under your tongue when the nurse gave them to you."

"Dead?" Jane repeated. "I died?"

"Didn't I just say that? Yes, Patrick you got your one greatest wish. . . to be with your wife and daughter. Congratulations."

"But I don't want to die. . . not anymore," Jane said.

"Yes, your friend Agent Lisbon did give you something to live for, didn't she?" Red John's face twisted into another cruel smile. "Oh and by the way, I never got caught. With you and Agent Lisbon dead and gone, I'm still running around hurting people. Thank you for that."

"But. . . but—"

Red John looked like he was about to go, but then he paused as if in an afterthought. "Oh, by the way. . . you died, alone. . . and unloved. Not quite unlike I did. So you see Patrick, we really are alike."

Jane covered his ears with his hands, blocking out the sound of Red John's words. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening."

"Oh stop being so childish!"

"Please, please tell me that this is just a dream. . . that these things really didn't happen. . ." Jane begged. "That all of this is a figment of my imagination. Please. . ."

"Why would I show _you _such kindness?" Red John spat. "You are a despicable human being. You ruined people's lives. . . their marriages. You killed your wife and daughter. You ruined _my _life, and you practically ruined Agent Lisbon's with your little spiel last night—"

"I've changed though!."

"People never change, you said so yourself."

Jane tried to block the poisonous words coming from the man's mouth. But he knew they were true, each and every one of them. He fell to the ground and wept grievously.

**.**

He woke up in a ball on the ground, the tears running freely down his face. Red John was right. . . it was his fault, his losing his wife, and his daughter, and now Lisbon. He sat up and slowly opened his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the light, they made out a silver frame on his coffee table. He blinked the last of his tears away and reached over for the frame. It was a picture of him and Lisbon, her arms around him. . . smiling up at him like he was the only man in the world.

His Grandfather clock chimed the hour. . . six 'o clock. And then it hit him, it was Christmas Eve! The spirits had done it all in one night, and Lisbon was still alive. He had a chance to change the future. . . a chance to make everything right between him and Lisbon. He didn't think twice, gripping the picture like his life depended on it, he grabbed his keys and bolted out the door.

**.**

"Lisbon!" Jane shouted as he rushed into the CBI. "Lisbon, I need to talk to you!"

He barged into her office, and found her curled up on her couch, her body rose and fell gently. . . he could tell that she was sleeping. He went to her and leaned over, brushing her hair gently from her face. Her cheeks were stained with tears and mascara. A picture of them dancing at a nightclub was resting on her stomach, her fingers curled around it tightly. And he knew she had been crying because of him. He continued to stroke her face until her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him.

"Jane," she said, her voice heavy with sleep. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here to talk to you," Jane replied. "I came here to beg for your forgiveness, because I know I hurt you—"

"You didn't hurt me," Lisbon replied, quickly swiping at her eyes. "I understand completely. . . so, after the holidays are over, I'm going to draw up your resignation papers."

"But I don't want you to do that! I _like_ working here!" He took her free hand. "And I love working with you."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said, and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. . . it was a petty thing to get angry about. And I wanted you to know. . . I wanted you to know that I am so thankful that we met."

Lisbon sat up. "Really?"

Jane took the seat beside her, looking into her eyes so she could see the honesty in his own. "Really. Lisbon. . . you're exactly what I needed. And I love you for it."

"You love me?" Lisbon asked, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

"Yes," Jane answered, wiping her tears away with his knuckle. "I love the way you always stand up for me, I love the way you smile when I do something you think is stupid – I live to make you smile – I love how you saved my life. . . I even love the things I hate about you, like the way you're grumpy until you have your first cup of coffee. Please Lisbon, _please_ say that you forgive me."

Lisbon sniffed, her whole body shaking with tears. She nodded. "You don't need to ask, I already forgave you. . . I guess that's what love is."

"You love me too then?" Jane asked hopefully.

"Yes," Lisbon answered. "I love you too."

Jane smiled and pulled her to himself, kissing her like somebody would kiss their long-lost lover. And in a way, she was his long-lost lover, because after years of avoiding her, he was finally finding her. Finally allowing himself to feel things that he never thought he'd allow himself to feel again. And he was so happy, she was one of the best Christmas gifts he could have ever asked for.

**_The End_**

**Author's Note 2:**

**Well, there we are everybody. It's done. I realize this is less Christmas-y than most stories out there, it's even less Christmas-y than the ones that I've posted this season. I had to make it quick though, because for the next couple of weeks (starting the 19****th****), I am going to be incommunicado. **

**So, Merry Christmas to all of my AMAZING readers and reviewers. I hope you all have a blessed season, and that you get everything you wish for. I thank the LORD on my every remembrance of you. Happy New Year too. And in the words of Tiny Tim, GOD bless us: EVERYONE!**

**See you next year!**

**Lots of love,**

**Holly**

**P.S**

**I'll probably post a couple more stories before December 19****th****. One for Jisbon4ever, because her birthday is coming up. . . and another Christmas Jello story. . . just because you guys are so awesome, and you deserve it. :D**


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